by Joan Wolf
To Thorn it seemed as if her closeness served to sever the spell that was holding Ronan in thrall. He looked down into his wife’s worried eyes and smiled a little crookedly. “All right, minnow,” he said. Briefly he touched her cheek with two of his fingers and let out his breath. “I am all right.” He said to Thorn, “Come along and we’ll pasture the horses.”
Nel waited until the two of them had moved off before turning to the chiefs. “You will have to show us where it will be best for our tribe to camp,” she said, “We do not know this cave.”
“Of course,” replied Haras, who was by nature a genial man. “There is plenty of room within the cave itself.”
The representatives of the other tribes all watched with awed fascination as the women and children of the Tribe of the Wolf began to stream toward the cave, while the men led the horses away.
“Berta,” Nel said as one of the women drew abreast of her, “will you take charge of the camp?”
“Of course.” Berta’s large brown eyes glanced shrewdly from Nel to the group in the cave’s opening. “No need to concern yourself with us, we shall be fine.”
Nel gave her a grateful smile and then began to walk toward the group from the Red Deer.
Neihle stood on one side of Arika, and Erek on the other. Tall men both, but the sheer presence generated by the small slender figure between overpowered them. Nel glanced at the rest of the delegation and registered with relief the absence of Morna.
“Mistress,” Nel said respectfully and bowed her head.
“Nel,” Arika replied. “I did not know if I would see you here.”
Nel raised her head. The Mistress looked older, she thought. There was a sprinkle of gray in her hair. Age would never completely dim the beauty of Arika’s face, however, nor soften its utter ruthlessness.
“How is Fali?” Nel asked.
“She died shortly after you left us,” Arika replied calmly, not at all concerned to soften the blow.
Nel closed her lips to stifle a cry of pain.
It was Arika’s turn to ask a question. “Have you married him?”
Nel nodded, her lips still taut.
“Have you a child?”
Nel drew a long breath and gathered all her forces. “Na,” she said evenly. “We have not.”
Arika frowned.
“I am surprised that you have come yourself to this meeting, Mistress,” Nel said next, anxious to steer Arika away from the too-tender subject of children. “It is not usually your way to mingle with those of other tribes.”
“It is not a far journey from the home of the Red Deer to the Great Cave,” Arika replied. “I thought it would be wise to see for myself what plots Ronan might be spinning.” She looked beyond Nel to where the men of the Wolf were leading the horses away. “I must confess, I had not expected this.”
“It was Ronan’s idea to try to tame our own horses,” Nel said.
“I am sure it was,” Arika agreed in almost the exact deceptively pleasant voice her son could use. She regarded Nel dispassionately. “Now I understand why he needed you, Nel. You have ever had the Mother’s touch with animals.”
Nel tasted bitter anger in the back of her throat. Her narrow nostrils quivered. “You have never understood Ronan,” she said, “You have not the heart for it.”
Arika looked surprised by Nel’s reaction, and then she turned thoughtful. “I understand him all too well.”
Never had anyone seen Nel’s face look so cold. “You understand nothing,” she said to the Mistress of the Red Deer, turned her back and walked away.
* * * *
Ronan pastured the horses in a grassy valley near to the Great Cave and delegated several of the men to remain with them, to keep a watch out for wild animals.
“The Horsemasters keep their horse-herd together this way,” he explained. “Horses are like men, their instinct is to stay together. The grass is plentiful here and we should have little trouble with strays. However, our horses are accustomed to the valley, where they have few enemies. We must be doubly vigilant to keep them safe.”
The men agreed fervently. No one wanted to see the work of the last two years go down under the attack of a lion, or stampede away into the hills.
When Ronan returned with the rest of the men to the Great Cave, Arika was gone from the entrance. Beki and Yoli were there instead, waiting to take them to the place where the women had set up camp and were cooking supper.
The tribes met that night in council at the place in the Great Cave where the chief men usually consulted during a Gathering. It was cold within the tunnel near the river, and they built a fire in the hearthplace and gathered around it, each leader accompanied by his train of followers. Ronan brought to the fire the men who had been with him on his last spying mission as well as Bror, Crim, Berta, Beki, and Nel. Nel sat beside Ronan. Neihle sat beside Arika. The shamans of the Leopard and the Buffalo sat beside their chiefs. The rest of the followers sat slightly behind.
Ronan spoke first, his manner brisk and businesslike. “I thank you for answering so promptly to my call. I had hoped to see the men of the Fox, the Squirrel, and the Bear as well, but I understand they chose not to come.”
“Like us, the Tribe of the Squirrel dwells on the Atata,” Haras said. “As you reported that the Horsemasters were coming down the River of Gold, they felt they would be safe.”
Unwar of the Leopard added, “And the tribes of the Fox and the Bear, which dwell south of us on the River of Gold, feel they also will be out of reach of the invaders.”
Ronan’s face was somber. “To be frank, I am surprised. I had expected to see the tribes that dwell on the River of Gold before the tribes that dwell on the Atata. Or even the Tribe of the Red Deer.” He did not look at Arika when he said this.
Haras said, “Our coming is not a commitment, Ronan. We came to hear you, only.” He smiled ruefully. “Thorn was very persuasive that we should at least do that.”
Neihle said, “The Tribe of the Red Deer has come to listen also.”
“What I have to propose is easily said.” Ronan’s face went from shadow to clarity in the flickering light of the fire. “I think we should bring all of our tribes into one united group and push these Horsemasters out of our mountains.”
“Fight, you mean,” Jessl, the shaman of the Buffalo, said in a neutral voice.
Ronan nodded.
Hamer, the bone-thin shaman of the Leopard tribe, directed a glittering look at Ronan. “I am prepared to accept the fact that there is indeed such a tribe as the one you describe. There have been reports of them from other sources. Other trustworthy sources,” he added with a smile like a knife. “However, I fail to see what we can hope to accomplish by opposing them directly. These horses of yours are impressive”—the shaman’s thin nose lifted to indicate that he, for one, was not overwhelmed—”but from what your own man tells us”—a derogatory flapping of his hand here toward Kasar, who had eloped with Beki, the shaman’s daughter—”they are only a handful against the large numbers owned by the invaders.”
Behind Nel, Beki squeaked with fury. Nel heard Kasar murmur something soothing to her. Ronan’s reply to the shaman was quiet and reasonable, “They do not need to know how few our horses are. If we make quick raids upon them, and then withdraw into the hills, how are they to know that we do not have horses in the numbers of their own?”
“That is a good point,” Haras said.
“What is to prevent them from spying upon us in the same manner as we have spied upon them?” Jessl asked.
“We know the mountains and they do not,” Ronan answered. “We can hide where they cannot find us.”
“That is another good point,” said Unwar. He thrust forward his chin and demanded of Ronan, “Why do we need to oppose this tribe when we can hide ourselves away and take up what is ours again when this swarm of invaders has gone elsewhere?”
Ronan regarded the chief of the Leopard, a short, bulky man, with flat, forbidding features and heavy
-lidded brown eyes. “We can evade them on horseback,” Ronan explained, “but not on foot. Other tribes have tried such a strategy and it has not proved successful. For one thing, these Horsemasters are a greedy lot. They do not seek merely the food that they need to live. They seek to take the things that other tribes have, so that they can appear important in each other’s eyes. They will not be satisfied with merely using our caves and our huts, with hunting in our forests and our pastures. They will want our furs and our tools, our necklaces and our bracelets.” He paused. “They will want our children to serve in their tents, and our women to lie in their sleeping skins. This is what they have exacted from other tribes whose home-sites lay in their path, and this is what they will want from us. Trying to hide availed these other tribes nothing. The Horsemasters always found them.”
The sound of the river was loud in the sudden quiet. Ronan had not once glanced in the direction of Arika and Neihle, but Nel could feel his awareness of them as they sat quietly, making as yet no attempt to participate in the talk. She thought gratefully that he did not seem as tense as he had been earlier. He could not afford to be distracted now; he needed all his concentration for this discussion.
Haras said determinedly, “It is true that this is the tale we have been hearing at gatherings for the last two years. I will tell you now, Ronan, that before you arrived, Unwar and I, together with our councils of nirum, discussed this situation, and we believe that because of the mountains we are in a better position to keep out of the Horsemasters’ way than were the tribes of the plain.”
“I do not want them in our mountains at all,” Ronan said forcefully. “If we unite, there will be enough of us to drive them out. Why should we run and hide in fear and trembling, like the antelope when it beholds the leopard, when we have it within our power to act like men?”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Big words are easily said,” Hamer sneered.
Jessl’s more conciliatory voice was heard. “Once these Horsemasters realize that the River of Gold is leading them out of the rich river valleys of the north and into high mountains, they may turn back on their own.”
“That is so,” agreed Unwar, and Haras also nodded his splendid sand-colored head.
“They already know they are coming into mountains,” said Arika, and all of the men’s eyes jerked around toward her. “The chief of the Wolf has not been the only one keeping watch on this tribe of despoilers,” the Mistress said calmly. “We of the Red Deer have also used our eyes.” She tilted her head slightly. “Tell them, Tyr,” she said.
One of the young men sitting behind Neihle moved forward slightly, so that the firelight illuminated his face. Tyr said, “As the Mistress said, we too have been keeping watch on this tribe. One moon ago their leader sent a group of horsemen to scout the country into which the River of Gold would take them. We watched them. They went all the way to the Greatfish River.” His dark blue gaze rested on Unwar. “They saw the homeplace of the Tribe of the Leopard,” he said, “and then they returned to their camp.”
Unwar’s heavy features looked even more forbidding than usual. “You are certain of this?”
“I am certain,” Tyr replied.
“Then they are coming,” Unwar said bleakly.
“What exactly do you propose we do?” Haras asked Ronan.
Ronan’s reply was succinct. “Combine all our tribes together into one great federation under the leadership of one chief and fight them.”
Haras slowly shook his head. “I do not know…”
For the first time since he had arrived at the cave, Ronan turned to his mother. “You at least must understand, Mistress. You have been watching this tribe as well as I. This is. a hunt, and thus far the tribes of the Kindred have been only the prey. I am saying that it is time that we became the hunters.”
Arika looked back at her son. “I am thinking you are right,’ she said mildly. She turned to the two other chiefs. “The Tribe of the Red Deer has no mind to relinquish its home and its hunting grounds to these unbelievers,” she said. “The chief of the Wolf says that it is time to be men. I do not know about men, but I do know that there is not a mother alive who would not fight for her children if they were in danger. I have no wish to see my children carried off to serve as slaves in the tents of these barbarians. I will fight.”
Ronan’s darkly arrogant face blazed suddenly into a smile, fierce and oddly joyful.
Watching him, Nel felt pain stir in her heart. She thought bitterly, But you did not fight for your child, Mistress. You tried to kill him.
The two male chiefs were grimly silent, unable to shame themselves by once more proposing they try to evade the Horsemasters by hiding. It was Jessl, shaman of the Buffalo, who finally asked, “Who is to be the leader of this federation, then?”
Unwar cleared his throat loudly and said, “I will be glad to put myself and my tribe under the command of Haras. The Tribe of the Buffalo is the largest of all the tribes; its chief should have the preference.”
Nel heard an ominous rumble rising behind her. Then Bror’s deep voice boomed, “There is only one man who should be the leader of this hunt, and that is Ronan!”
Growls of agreement came from all the men of the Wolf. Nel glanced at Ronan’s profile; it was perfectly calm.
Haras bent his head in gracious acknowledgment of Bror’s words. “Ronan and the men of the Wolf have done good service to us all in bringing the imminence of danger to our attention. Truly, you have erased any disrepute in which your tribe may formally have been held.” He smiled genially. “However, this endeavor needs a leader who will command the unequivocal loyalty of all the members of the Federation. If the Tribe of the Red Deer is to be among our number, then I do not see how Ronan can be the leader.”
Arika’s face was unreadable. Neihle bent his head a little, as if he were disassociating himself from the entire conversation.
Nel was delighted to hear Berta’s liquid voice. “There can be no one else to be the leader but Ronan,” Berta declared. She leaned a little forward, bringing her round, olive-tinted face into the light of the fire. “Who else here has led a group of people made up of many tribes and many different ways of worship?” Berta asked. “Who else can be trusted not to favor the ways of his own people over the ways of others? I tell you now”—and here Berta’s large brown eyes stared unflinchingly at Arika—”Ronan is a man to honor all beliefs and all ways of worship. To my mind, there is no one else so well fitted to lead the Federation we are speaking of tonight.”
Berta withdrew, and over her shoulder Nel cast her a quick, grateful glance.
Neihle’s head lifted slightly.
Hamer, shaman of the Leopard, said coldly, “I am thinking you forget what brought the Tribe of the Wolf together in the first place.” The shaman glared at the group of people gathered behind Ronan. “You are outcasts,” he said, his eyes lingering especially upon Kasar and his rebellious daughter, Beki. “There is not a one of you who could return to the tribes to which you were born. You follow Ronan because you have no choice. I suppose you have in some part redeemed yourselves by your warnings to us, but do not be thinking to take the leadership here!”
“I do not believe what I am hearing” came Bror’s thunderous growl.
For the first time, Ronan glanced over his shoulder at his followers.
“I thought it was only the chiefs who were to have the speaking here tonight,” Unwar said. “It seems as if the chief of the Tribe of the Wolf has little control over his own people.”
Ronan said blandly, “But I do not disagree with what they are saying.”
“Then you want the leadership?” Haras asked with genuine incredulity.
“I do not think there is anyone else qualified to take it,” Ronan replied.
Silence.
“You are truthful, if arrogant,” said Hamer with a chill stare.
“Let us look at the realities,” Ronan said, “Do you want to know if I will put myself und
er anyone else’s command? I tell you now that I will. This is not an ultimatum—my interest is in securing the safety of these mountains. But, as Berta pointed out, I am the one among us who has the experience of leading a diverse group of people. The Tribe of the Wolf draws its members from many different peoples and many different ways of worship. I have learned how to get people to work together. This is a skill that will be much needed in the days to come.”
“You are not the only man in this company with tact and wisdom, Chief of the Wolf,” said Jessl gravely.
Nel opened her mouth to speak, but Bror drowned her out, “You forget, all of you, that we have the horses and are the only ones who know how to tame and ride them.”
Haras and Unwar jerked upright and glared at Ronan. “Are you saying that if we do not name you to be our leader, you will withhold from us the use of your horses?”
Ronan’s slim black brows had snapped together. “Of course not…”
Bror overrode him. “I say this, and hear me well,” growled Ronan’s rebellious second-in-command. “The Tribe of the Wolf has no need to join in this hunt party. Have you thought of that, my friends? We have a place where no invaders will ever find us. Do you think that we have come here because we long to throw ourselves upon the spears of these Horsemasters? Do you think we have come here out of love for you?”
“Why have you come here, then?” Jessl asked.
“We came because of Ronan,” Bror answered uncompromisingly. “We came because he is our chief and he asked us to. But it is Ronan who commands our loyalty, not you, and we will not stand still and let you put someone else in the place that should be his.”
Nel bowed her head so that the others should not see the tears brimming in her eyes.
“So,” said Haras grimly. “You hold a spear to our hearts.”
“No spear,” Arika said. Astonishingly, there was humor in her voice. “Only horses.” She surveyed the ruffled faces of Haras and Unwar, “There is truth in what the men of the Wolf have said. I have been listening to this discussion, and the chiefs of the Leopard and of the Buffalo have made much talk of ‘our spies,’ and ‘our horses.’ In fact, the spies and the horses are not ours. They belong to the Tribe of the Wolf.”